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Tuesday, 5 August 2014

If you aren't following me on Instagram or Twitter, there might be the slight chance that you've missed the storm of photographic updates about the new love in my life. So he's making his official debut here on my blog.

Blog readers, meet Quentin.

Quentin was born on the 11th of May 2014, into a family of 7 pugs, including his three sweet sisters, his mother Abby and step uncles and aunties. Meeting him for the first time was like a dream - it was probably the most realistic example of love-at-first-sight that's ever been recorded. He was tiny, very wiggly, and had chubby little back rolls. He played for a little bit on my lap, softly mouthing my hand, before falling asleep. My first encounter with a pug snore.

Meeting Quentin

7 weeks old

The following week I got to take him home. The drive home was interesting. I cried a little, feeling a) guilty for taking Abby's only son away from her and b) like this was a dream coming true. (Quentin weed on me twice in the car, but I didn't care one bit.)

I've wanted a dog for the longest time. Some people fantasise about getting married and having kids, all I've ever wanted was to paint, and have a dog for company. The idea of an animal as a companion, one with which such a strong bond can be made, is just my dream. People stress me out, social situations stress me out. With a dog, it's not about your topics of conversation, or your opinions, it's about your ability to love. As cheesy as that sounds...

The first night at home

8 weeks old

Bat dog, 10 weeks.

Having said all that, I have to be honest and say that my first month with Quentin hasn't been quite the dream I envisioned. It's involved setting my alarm for every 2 hours through the night to take him outside. It's involved excrement, on my hands, as I reached into his bed in the middle of the night. It's involved washing the entire contents of his crate at 2 in the morning. I could go on, but I fear this would just be a paragraph about poo, and nobody wants that.

However, since turning 12 weeks this Sunday, things have got easier and I feel I'm finally enjoying having a puppy in the house. Yes, he still chews everything in sight, but he's calmer now he can explore outside, and now that he's used to the other members of the house, including my rabbit Hergé.

12 weeks

The idea of "a Quentin" has existed for about a year. Every time I saw a black pug (a Quentin) in the street, I would squeal behind my hands. He's just the dog for me, and I'm so happy he's finally here.

Last week I was lucky enough to be asked to produce some illustrations for Stylist Magazine. I was really pleased - Stylist are a client I've always wanted to work with. They often showcase illustration over photography (especially for their covers) and their pages are beautifully designed - not to mention they have a huge readership. Also, does anyone remember their fairy tale special? It was packed full of beautiful painterly illustration, unlike anything I'd seen in editorial before. It has to be said, they are a bit of a dream client for me!

I painted a series of unusual and mostly delicious sounding martini's for a full page spread in the magazine, which you can see below. Did any of you spot this?